Choice of Peril
by Lady Charity
Summary: On the day of Fleur and Bill's wedding, Voldemort creates his last Horcrux in Ron as a last, desperate attempt of survival. Now, Harry must make the fateful choice of whether he can bear murdering his best friend or doom the entire Wizarding World.
1. Prologue

**Hey guys! **

**My first Harry Potter Fanfiction**

**My sister influenced this, and I wrote it down**

**The idea. **

**Harry Potter is not mine. **

**Obviously. **

Two jagged welts ran their journey up Harry's wand arm and twisted onto his shoulder. The wand still trembled in his grip as he cast one last look at his enemy. He checked to see if it was truly dead before he clutched his arm and tried hard to stem the blood dripping down his forearm and painting the floor.

The snake Nagini was dead. Its bulk oozed across the stone floor, milky liquid still leaking from the deep wounds. A gigantic specimen had been reduced to a mere roadblock.

A Horcrux was his enemy. It contained a part of Voldemort, and feeling triumph, he felt as if he had killed a bit of him. Unfortunately, the novelty of the action sort of wore out after about the third time.

Nagini, revolting though it was, reminded him of his own plight. He wondered whether he, the great figurehead of the Ministry of Magic, would also evolve into a lonely grave.

He closed his eyes, ignoring the tears from the tension wash his cheeks bathed in dry blood. Slowly climbing out of the dark tunnel, he left the stench of rotting meat and thick poison behind him as his Healer, Raus, hurried over, tripping on his robes.

"You're alive!" said Raus in awe, before hastening to heal him. Harry always did things alone. When he had to destroy a Horcrux, he would allow no innocent lives to accompany him. Why die unnecessarily? The only help he would accept was a Healer, who would stay far away and wait until he showed. If he showed, that was.

Harry smiled grimly. Only one more. Lord Voldemort himself. He grasped his wand, feeling it nearly splinter in his dirty palms. When the nightmare ended, he would finally understand the meaning of relief.

"It's nearly morning, Harry," said Raus edgily. "We've got to get you back before your aunt and uncle know you're gone."

Harry nearly laughed. Of course. His dual life. After slaughtering the greatest serpent in history, he would be lowered to trimming hedges and flipping pancakes. Killing serpent equals Dudley-servant. He seriously had no respect.

Just as he wiped his wet forehead with the back of his palm, he spotted a thick cord of dark gray slither through the rocks. He stopped, his heart pounding. A snake about two feet long slinked through the cracks. It looked up and locked beady eyes with him before sliding into a dark crevice.

"Harry?" asked Raus nervously.

"It's nothing," he heard himself say.

But he had lied. When the snake stared at him, he knew with a jolt that it was Nagini. He rubbed his eyes. Nagini was supposedly dead in the cave, wasn't she? Yet the same ruthless, calculating eyes, the same twisting body…surely he needn't kill her again.

"C'mon Harry, you can't be late," called Raus from afar.

Harry tore his eyes away from the ground and kept quiet. He was imagining it. His task was done. There was no point in saying a thing about it.

After all, he didn't need Hermione to tell him that seeing snakes you've killed already was definitely a bad omen in the Wizarding World.


	2. Ruddy Owls

"BOY YOU BETTER GET THESE RUDDY OWLS OUT OF HERE QUICK!"

Harry poked his head sleepily out of the corner to see three porky owls the size of Dudley zoom over Uncle Vernon's head and around. It had been the summer before the last and final year of Hogwarts…that is, if he was ever going to go back.

Harry quickly untied the rolled up parchment from the owl's talons before Vernon got his gun. Shooing the fat owls away, he tucked the letters into his jean pocket before his uncle could interrogate him and take them away.

"What were those ruddy owls doing in our house?" Vernon bellowed.

"Vernon, sweetie, what's going on?" Petunia came around the corner, her horselike teeth flashing every time she spoke.

"That…that _boy's_ lot has been sending him letters!"

"Again?" Petunia immediately backed away from Harry, as if was the host of a deadly disease. "Is it from…from that Black guy? His godfather?"

"Don't be silly, Sirius is dead," snapped Harry angrily. Before they said another word, he quickly retired to his small room. All of his possessions were scattered across the floor as always. Unrolling the first letter, he read…

_Harry, _

Hey Harry! It's Ron, mate. Listen, I know that you want to leave Hogwarts to find the last Horcrux, but remember! You have to come around our place for Bill and Fleur's wedding! I saw some of their plans, and it seems fantastic! But you might want to stop by Madame Malkin's place to get some dress robes first.

_We'll come pick you up this Saturday at five, how about? The wedding will be Sunday at 11:00 AM. Ask your Muggles if they'll let you. Heck, you don't have to ask at all 'cause we'll take you anyways!_

_ Your friend,_

_Ron  
_

Harry smiled. He almost forgot about Bill and Fleur's wedding He read the second letter…

_Dear Harry,_

_Hi Harry! It's me, Hermione! Mum and Dad finally decided to get me an owl so I can write to you and Ron! Her name's Mercury! You know, the Roman messenger of the gods? Crookshanks always wants to get him, but Mercury's cage is high up on my cupboard. _

_ So how are you, Harry? Are you truly, positively sure you're not going to Hogwarts again? I'm just afraid that you won't know enough to destroy the very ast Horcrux. Oh! I'm not saying you're bad at magic, but Dumbledore even got hurt when he destroyed the ring…I'm sorry! I shouldn't have mentioned Dumbledore! Oh…_

_Are you going to Bill and Fleur's wedding? I am! Ron's picking me up around Saturday, and Mum and Dad say I'm allowed to go. What about you and your aunt and uncle? Are they treating you right? _

_Sincerely, _

_Hermione _

Harry chuckled slightly. Good old Hermione, so worrisome. He turned to the last letter. Who could it be from? Sirius was dead, Dumbledore was dead (his innards wrenched tightly when he thought this and quickly pushed the thought away), so could it be Hagrid?

He opened the letter only to find out it was not in fact from Hagrid, but actually from Professor McGongal.

_Dear Mr. Potter, _

_ It was not too long ago that I had accidentally _(Harry noticed that the world 'accidentally' was someone scrawled more messier than the rest of the letter. He supposed that whatever she said was not at all accidental) _tripped into Albus Dumbledore's pensieve and discovered that he put some of his lesson's memories into it. Knowing you for 16 years, I know you would have it in you to destroy the last Horcrux and never return to Hogwarts. However, I must plead to you not to skip your final and most important year in magical education. In our seventh year, you would learn so much extraordinarily powerful magic from the Defense Against the Dark Arts that I positively know you would need for your journey. _

_I will not take no for an answer. You need the last bit of education you need to know how to destroy the Horcrux. It even challenges a powerful wizard in order to destroy a magical property like a Horcrux. I have arranged it that very powerful mages _(mages? Harry thought that Hogwarts was a wizard and witch school) _to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. _

_Attached to this letter is a list of items you'll need for your last year. _

_Sincerely, _

_Professor Minerva McGongal _

Harry frowned. McGongal was practically forcing him to attend Hogwarts again! She wasn't serious, was she? Harry immediately scribbled on two parchments at the same time, responding to both Ron and Hermione.

_Hey guys, _

_ McGongal is forcing me back to Hogwarts! Is she doing the same to you guys? _

_Yeah, I'm going to the wedding. Not that I asked my uncle and aunt…I just want to go anyways. _

_Harry _

Harry beckoned Hedwig to come. The albino owl fluttered by as Harry tied the letters on her leg.

"Get these to Ron and Hermione," he told her. Hedwig blinked her amber eyes and hooted. "Fly safely."

Hedwig fluttered his wings in agreement and soared out the window. Harry smiled, watching the pearly owl fly into the depths of night.

((((MEANWHILE))))

"My lord…"

Wormtail keeled over a stuffed armchair. Voldemort said nothing, his long fingers caressing the dead body of Nagini. He hissed and hurled the dead snake into the undying fire.

"What a waste," he commented lightly. "Harry Potter has taken down all my Horcruxes, and now I am as vulnerable as the next." He looked down at Peter Pettigrew, who was kissing the hems of Voldemort's black robes.

"What will we do, My Lord?" Wormtail's voice quavered.

"Why, make a last Horcrux, my servant," hissed Voldemort. "Don't you remember? I only have six Horcruxes. I myself am not a Horcrux. Don't you know, Wormtail, that seven, the maximum number of Horcruxes a wizard can make, is the most powerful?" Wormtail bolted up, his eyes fearful. Voldemort raised his wand.

"Avada Kedavra," he whispered. Wormtail yelped as the emerald light hit him squarely on the neck. He flumped to the ground limply, his foggy eyes opened. Voldemort blew the smoke away from his wand.

"Now, where to put my last part of the soul…" Voldemort contemplated, vanishing Peter's corpse. "Ah, yes…" His thin lips smiled. "I know _exactly_ where to put it…"

**DUM DUM DUMMMMM **

**Muahaha **


	3. Wedding Day

"Blimey, this is amazing!"

Harry gazed at the gleaming crystal cathedral with its domed ceiling and intricate diamond latticed walls. He felt as if he'd waken from a terrible nightmare and was immediately whisked away to fairyland, or at least, a very shiny palace. Rows of crystal thrones were lined neatly before a clear glass podium, which hung delicate silver strands of opal.

After some many extra hours of work in the Ministry of Magic and Gringotts, Mr. Weasley and Bill managed to rent a majestic portable crystal cathedral near The Burrow.

"We're really lucky Dad got this!" Ron grinned. "It isn't as great as the real cathedrals that you can actually keep, or the ones that are made of little sapphires and rubies, but this is good."

"Fleur was ecstatic," muttered Ginny, plucking at her pale gold gown next to Fleur's little sister, Gabriella. "She keeps raving about how the crystal matches her shoes."

"Aw, cheer up, little bridesmaid," joked Hermione, tossing her finally tamed brown hair. Undoubtedly, she had spent another precious day pouring Sleekeazy's Har potion down her tresses. She was undoubtedly pretty. Harry smiled, proud that his best friend had snagged her away from the clutches of a sullen Krum. "You're finally going to have two new girls in the family. Gabriella and Fleur."

"Oh joy." Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Look!" Harry exclaimed, pointing up to the stained crystal windows. As the light fell past its faceted surface, they broke into shards, littering the floor.

"Blimey, what's that?" Ron nudged Hermione with alarm. Harry glanced at it, horrified. His sleeve had slid down his arm when he gestured, revealing the grotesque scar carved on his skin.

"Harry! What happened?" gasped Hermione, her hand encircling his wrist as the rest of the Weasleys stared in horror.

"N-nothing," Harry assured quickly, yanking the sleeve back up his shoulder.

"Who did it?" demanded Ginny.

"Uh—Dudley," Harry lied. He felt relieved at the sympathetic glances he received from the Weasleys and Hermione. They bought the lie.

"That's…that's Muggle abuse, that is…" said Ron weakly.

"Yup," Harry said cheerfully. "So, when does the wedding start?"

"Well, it's about 5:50 right now…" Ron said professionally at his cheap metal pocket watch. Harry blinked.

"Ron, you're reading it wrong," Hermione giggled. "It's really 10:30, Harry."

"I was about to say…" Harry chuckled. "The 'I do's aren't gonna start until forty-five minutes from now."

"I wish it was just the 'I do's," groaned Ron with extreme agony. "If only they'd skip the rest of the stuff. Everyone knows what it's about anyway." He stared into the ceiling with exaggerated pain, his russet hair falling past his lightning-bolt blue eye.

"Don't be silly," giggled Hermione, slipping a slim hand in his. "The wedding vows are the most beautiful part of the ceremony. I personally think we can skip the refreshments."

"No…cake?" asked Ron with disbelief, snapping his head from its tilted position to glare at Hermione. "Blimey, why do you think I bothered showing up in the first place?"

"Because Hermione would be all dressed up," answered Ginny promptly. Ron turned scarlet, but Harry noticed his fingers tighten on Hermione's appreciatively.

Hermione was awfully beautiful. The dark gold dress highlighted her hair and draped around her shoulders, with the sleeves inset with tiny pieces of crystal. She and Ginny looked like twin angels, though Ginny's red hair shone with an unfettered energy when the sunlight chanced upon it.

Harry sighed. It was as if all his friends had turned into gorgeous creatures of the night and he was still…Harry. Hairy Harry too, he reflected rather sadly. His hair still stuck out in odd angles, he was still too skinny for his own good, his glasses still broke, and to make matters worse, he had _three_ scars to hide now.

That was when he gave a strangled yell.

His scar burned with a searing pain. No, all of his scars. He fought to control his shouts as the stinging increased drastically. Reaching a climax, it finally released its grasp on him and left him panting.

"Harry! Something must be seriously wrong. Was it the scar?" asked Ginny, reaching out to him and brushing his lengthy hair aside.

"Yeah. 'Course it was," he said thickly. He didn't want to tell them about Nagini. If they knew he was destroying Horcruxes, they would insist to come along. And he couldn't bear that…dragging them into the same fate he was in.

"It sounded worse," said Hermione, her voice cracking. "You don't think _he's _nearby, do you?"

"No. He's not nearby," said Harry with effort.

"Maybe it was the tight tuxedos they stuffed us in," joked Ron shakily. "I feel like screaming in this manly corset too."

Harry offered a weak smile, though it was more like a grimace.

"Time to start!" said Ginny excitedly, checking Ron's watch for him. "I have to go, bridesmaid duties, you know." Harry's momentary relapse was forgotten, which he was entirely grateful, and they all linked hands to beat the Ministry of Magic for the best seats.

As they sat down, Ron grinned at Harry and said, "D'you know Pig is the ringbearer? I trained him. He had to choke on a bag of those owl biscuits before he'd do it right."

Harry nodded, distracted, as he scanned the crowd. Anything strange, any clue of unrest. His eyes even scoured the ground for any long, slithering creature.

"Hey, are you all right?" asked Ron, concerned.

Harry turned to Ron with effort. "Sure I am. I'm just…tired about thinking of Voldemort, that's all."

"Yeah, that Voldy-guy can be a very boring subject," laughed Ron. Then, turning serious, he placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You've got to stop worrying. And I want you to know that Hermione and I will always be there. No matter what the cost." He smiled and looked down, self conscious, before continuing, "After all, what else are sidekicks for? They gotta rescue the superhero, don't they? So don' t worry."

Harry felt a warm gratification rise up in his chest as he smiled. But he couldn't stop worrying. He felt it, deep within his bones and especially etched in his scars. He desperately wanted to refuse the idea, to consider himself idiotic, but with his very soul, he _knew._

Lord Voldemort was at the wedding.


	4. An Unlikely Couple

Harry wiped his sweaty palms on his black trousers as he glanced at his friends. Hermione leaned forward expectantly, a dreamy rapture lingering on her face. Ron too was waiting for the procession, his long fingers clasped together with a peaceful interest.

He would not let them get hurt. They were too dear, too precious, and most of all, worth ten time to him than his own life. When…_if_ Voldemort showed up, he would kill him with his bare hands. The day Voldemort hurt any of them would be the day Harry starts to die.

His thoughts were interrupted when the Weird Sisters struck up a pompous tune Though they were still in their ripped jeans and crazy hair, they wore gold glitter all over their bodies in honor of the event.

Then, the bride appeared. The entire congregation turned their heads as one to where the limelight glowed on a gorgeous and shy lady in satin cream, her lacy-gloved hands clutching a bouquet of fragrant lilies. Fleur beamed with all the radiance in the moon and sun as she proceeded down the aisle, her long train held by Ginny and Gabriella.

Bill had eyes for only his girl as she made her way with dignity up the dark violet carpet and to him. They took hands and then went together to the priest. Harry tried to enjoy the spectacle as he rubbed his aching head.

Then Pigwidgeon came zooming up the aisle too with a tiny little veil on its head and two rings in its beak. The audience laughed appreciatively as the bird dipped low to the ground with the weight of the 14 karot gold before regaining height and fluttering on the stand.

The vows began slowly. Harry tapped his fingers lightly on the amethyst armrest of his seat, the sting in his scar gradually worsening. He glanced worriedly around for the sight of a cloaked man with a snake-like face. Harry clenched his teeth, breathing in hisses as the pain in his scar writhed and throbbed. As boiling sweat rolled down his face, he tried with vain to keep attention. Harry clutched so tightly on the crystal armrests that the white of his knuckles made unicorns gray.

"Harry? What's wrong?" whispered Ron.

Harry whipped his head to Ron. "Err…nothing. I'm…I'm just hungry." He hated to lie to Ron, but he couldn't say anything during the vows. His fingers twitched towards his wand.

"Yeah, me too," sighed Ron.

"Do you take this man as your lawfully wedded husband?" asked the priest.

"I do," announced Fleur cheerfully.

"And do you take this woman as your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do," stated Bill calmly.

The priest smiled. But suddenly, Bill's whole body started to morph and throb, blood bubbling from underneath. The audience backed away slowly as Fleur reached a hand hesitantly towards him.

Bill's thick hair slithered back into his scalp. His werewolf scars sunk into the skin. Brown eyes flashed red and curved into small slits. Bill's nose flattened into snake-like slits. Harry gasped in pain as his scar screamed and clawed his skin. Moaning, he dropped to his knees and clutched his scar with clammy hands.

"Harry!" gasped Hermione.

Lord Voldemort stood exactly where Bill was. He hurled a nearly empty bottle of Polyjuce potion to the wall. Whipping out his wand, he aimed it to Harry's forehead.

"I've decided that my last Horcrux will be…you," he smiled venomously. Harry acted out of pure instinct. He leapt out of his chair, rolling on the ground amid gasps and screams, nearly dodging a Stunning spell. The crowd escalated into a riot of terror as Harry continued to run and weave into the mob. Ron and Hermione followed him, aiming fruitless spells at Lord Voldemort. The swarm of people swelled with chaos as Voldemort jumped down from the podium and began to race toward them.

"Harry, your wand!" screamed Hermione with frustrated exasperation.

"Right," he managed to say before ducking behind the wedding cake as a spell that shot out like a whirlwind imbedded itself in the butter cream. Acidic steam rose from the frosting covered masterpiece. Snatching his wand from his pocket, he swerved around to meet the murderer of his parents and companions.

He turned to Ron and Hermione and yelled, "Get away! Stay away from me! He only wants me, just—"

Suddenly, people trying desperately to get away shoved him against the wall and his glasses fell off. His fingers closed on air; he had dropped his wand too.

"Bloody messed up vision," he muttered as he kneeled on the ground, his hands forlornly feeling for his spectacles. He saw two brown blurry blobs in the form of Ron and Hermione searching frantically for the glasses too.

"Wait, Harry, it's here!" shouted Hermione, pushing the frame into his hands. He hastily put them on and looked up.

They were too late. Voldemort had reached them, and his wand was five feet away from his face. Harry glanced down and saw his own wand had been trodden on and broken, yards away. He slowly stood up and found himself backed up in a wall. Voldemort's wand followed him with an excited obsession.

The tip of the wand gave birth to a tiny whirlwind that gained strength and momentum in a fraction of a second. Harry felt the force of the wind current whip wildly through his hair but there was nothing he could to do to stop it.

"HARRY, NO!" screamed Hermione.

He refused to close his eyes. He would not die a coward. What tore at him the most was knowing he had failed to protect the world he loved most.

Numbly, he watched the vortex of space spin faster and faster before it shot out like a cannon right to his heart.

Something collided in front of him, nearly throwing him off balance, but it wasn't the current of energy. His eyes glimpsed a shade of bright red, and his heart froze.

"RON!" yelled Harry. For a millisecond, time slowed down and he saw with horror his best friend in front of him with both arms thrown out and his blue eyes ready to face death and keep his promise. Harry couldn't yell. He couldn't push him away and save him. Everything was frozen.

Then, time resumed its relentless pace.

The whirlwind slammed hard into Ron and knocked Harry against the wall as it. He gasped, the impact of Ron on his stomach knocking the wind out. Stars flew in front of his eyes as he struggled to breathe. He heard Ron shout with pain as the spell pounded into his heart. He watched with terror as the spell was absorbed into Ron's body.


	5. Charity

Harry was barely able to catch Ron as he fell to the ground senseless. Hermione screamed and bent down, shaking his unconscious body. Harry stared, horrified, and whipped out his wand and bent down on all fours.

"Ennervate! Ennervate!" he yelled. "C'mon! Please work! Ennervate!"

_Don't be dead_ Harry thought wildly. _Don't be dead, don't be dead…_

Voldemort sagged, strength clearly sapping out of him. "Blood traitor!" he spat before trying to Apparate, but the spell he cast on Ron had took its toll.

Kingsley Shackelbolt and Tonks (still in their wedding-wear) rushed towards Voldemort, brandishing their wands. Voldemort was forced to dodge the spells aimed toward him.

"Mrs. Weasley! Mr. Weasley! Anyone!" shrieked Hermione. "Someone, help us! He's hurt! Ron's hurt!"

Harry heaved, sliding his way from under Ron. A Stunning spell barely missed him, splinters of glass slicing his cheek. He quickly picked up a piece of glass and held it under Ron's nose. Sighing, he dropped the glass aside. There was vapor, confirming the fact that Ron lived.

Harry's thoughts whirled around in his mind. Why didn't Voldemort aim a killing curse at him? The yells of incantations and the multi-colored spells were mixed up in a confusing hazy sight. People scurried to flee while the Order stood their ground to fight.

Voldemort swiped and clenched tightly onto Fleur. Fleur screamed as he shattered the glass wall with his hand and jabbed a shard at her throat, steering her in front of him.

"Don't shoot!" yelled Mr. Weasley. The Order lowered their wands. Voldemort grinned from behind Fleur, who thrashed in his arms.

"Let go of me, monster!" she shrieked. Voldemort dug the glass deeper on her cheek. Harry's eyes widened as pearly blood oozed down her face, marring it. His stomach churned as he stilled his wand. Bill would never forgive him if he attacked now.

"You call me a monster, _my dear wife_?" Voldemort whispered. Fleur ceased fighting and her silver eyes shone with incredulity. "You're legally wedded to me, _v_eela. You're _bound_ to me." Her face slackened with despair before she curled her fingers around the hem of his cloak, enraged beyond words.

"You are nothing to me," she swore softly. Then she wrenched Voldemort toward her and yelled in his face, "VHAT DID YOU DO TO 'IM?" Hermione screamed as he flung Fleur ungracefully off her feet. She pummeled against the back of a throne before crumpling onto the ground. Harry pushed himself off the ground, grasping his sweaty wand. Anger boiled in his blood, his fist stiffened on his wand.

Voldemort took a breath and summoned the last reserves of his energy before he Apparated away.

Ron began to convulse uncontrollably.

"Harry Potter, are you listening? Kal Vas Flam!" the mage's voice cracked through his reverie and a torrent of harmless fire cocooned his body. He yelped with discomfort before it subsided.

There were some people that he liked (Hermione and…he stopped thinking about it), some people he hated (Snape was the champion), and some people he believed had dung for brains. The last category he heartily labeled onto Professor McGonagal. It didn't matter to her that it was merely a week after the wedding that Hogwarts started. She had literally shipped him off to Hogwarts. No excuses.

How did she think he could concentrate? Ron could be dead for all he knew (his wand hand trembled violently), and according to Professor McGonagal, he was trying to recover in St. Mungos.

The mage pulled up her sleeves and glared at him with eyes made to skin his soul alive. "If you don't concentrate," she sniffed, "I suggest you step in front of a Heliopath and save us time."

Harry groaned. Luna could have told him she had a sister, and a mage sister at that. And it would have been very thoughtful of Luna if she had informed him of her peculiarities.

"Sorry."

"Sorry who?"

"Sorry, Professor Charity," muttered Harry through gritted teeth.

"You remember me teaching you about the wizarding past?"

"Sure," said Harry half-heartedly. Most of it was a wild fable, fabricated probably with the help of Luna herself.

"Well, then. Repeat it."

"The first wizards were born from the bellybutton of a goat. Thankfully, a vengeful fairy who hated goat milk cast a spell that made the wizards magical and intelligent, so the wizards would eat the goats she hated," recited Harry like a broken record. He clenched his fist. "It's all rubbish anyway."

"Rubbish! I would never lie!" Charity shook her head, her necklace of a real red cherry swinging. "I suppose you don't believe that there are legless frogs." She continued to rant. "I suppose you don't believe that eggs are really oversized pearls, that Umbridge has waltzed with Hagrid, and they both spent the night in his hut. I suppose you don't believe that Ron is in Hogwarts and Snape was seen in only a parasol with—"

"Ron's here?" asked Harry sharply. "He's in St. Mungos!"

"Rubbish to that! I saw him carried in by Snape, excuse me, Professor—"

"Where is he?"

"Why, with Madame Pomfrey, I'm sure…"

Harry stood up, overturning his desk. Without explaining himself, he sprinted out of the door and through the halls.

To think, Ron had been just a few floors away. And to think, he noted angrily to himself, that McGonagall was going to have her brains (dung or not) blown out of her ears for lying to him.

**A/N As you can see, I seem to be a very gullible professor. **

**Har Har Har**


	6. Horcruxes

"PROFESSOR MCGONAGALL!" Harry burst through the double doors, spinning wildly around the room. Everyone stared at him. He recognized a fellow Slytherin, Saxe, who had undiluted bubotuber pus squirting out of his ears with a sort of savage pleasure. He was going to have to thank whoever did that.

His eyes caught sight of Professor McGonagall, looking very much wrong-footed and bewildered.

"Professor!" Without thinking, he grabbed her robe and held onto it tightly. "Where's Ron?"

"Sorry, Potter?"

"I know he's here," he said desperately"Stop pretending. Where is he?" He wanted to wring the feelings of fear and guilt into her flabbergasted face.

"Where did you hear this?" McGonagall demanded.

"From the new mage teacher woman…"

"And has she said anything worth remembering?"

"She said Ron was here!"

"Keep in mind this is a relative of Luna Lovegood."

Harry wanted to cry out in frustration. "Luna wasn't wrong about everything! She knew about the thestrals! Professor." He restrained threatening her with a wand, which would be an act in bad taste. "Just tell me where he is."

She finally sighed, relenting to his surprise. "You have a right to know. Then again, considering everything seems to be related to you, it would be an excuse for you to know everything. Follow me."

Hardly believing his luck, Harry walked behind McGonagall through dark halls, away from the hospital wing. Instead, after turning a few corners, he found himself straight in front of the Room of Requirement.

"We needed a hiding place," whispered Professor McGonagall before walking three times in front of it. The solid oak door bloomed from the tapestry. Without asking for permission, Harry wrenched the doorknob and opened it.

The first person he saw was Hermione, her hands clasped onto her lap, her curly brown hair falling past her face. He threw a questioning glance at her, but she paid no notice. The injustice of it all throttled him. Why did Hermione know, and not him?

Then, from a pale window, a bed was illuminated. He could barely make out a red-haired figure motionless on the pillow.

"What's happening?" His voice felt dry, as if speaking near a coffin. "Ron needs care…a…a hospital. How come he's…How bad is it?"

"He's fine," said Professor McGonagall sounding like she had a bad cold.

Harry struggled to control his temper, but his rage held out. "HE GOT HIT BY VOLDEMORT AND NOW HE'S JUST LAYING THERE! YOU EXPECT ME TO BELIEVE HE'S FINE?" Sparks shot out of his wand and bounced off the solitary window. Hermione stood up and threw her arms around him, shocking him too much to react.

"I'm sorry, Harry, but we couldn't tell you, not yet," she sobbed on his shoulder. Her weeping shook her entire frame, and Harry ceased being angry. "I know it was wrong, and you were worried, but we didn't know how to tell you!"

Harry stood motionless for a minute. "He's dead, isn't he?" he asked calmly.

Hermione shook her head, and as she did, he felt relief sweep through his body like falling into water. Feeling a bit lightheaded, he asked, "Then…then it's okay. How bad is he?"

"That's just it," said Hermione. "He-he really is fine. He's asleep right now."

Harry tried to cut some common sense in the confusion. "Then why isn't he asleep in the Gryffindor Tower?"

Hermione couldn't speak for weeping, "Because…because he's…"

Professor McGonagall mercifully took over. "Potter, sit down."

Harry hesitated, before seating himself on the side of Ron's bed, as the only chair vacant had previously been taken by Hermione.

"I wish I had some gingersnaps to offer you," she muttered, running her fingers over the starch-white covers before sighing. "Do you remember when Voldemort inserted a bit of himself into you when you were born?"

"Considering the scar itches every single second, it's hard to forget," he mumbled grumpily. "Why?"

"Well…Harry, You Know…er, Voldemort sort of did the same thing to Ron. Remember the spell that was meant for you, Harry?"

He nearly threw up. Horcrux. Voldemort was going to make him his last Horcrux. "Yes," he whispered.

"That's why we can't keep Ron in St. Mungo's, where the Ministry of Magic can find him. If they know Ron is a Horcrux, then they'll force you to kill him. They could…they could take Hermione or Ginny or even Ron and torture them in front of you until you killed him."

Harry wouldn't stop shaking his head. "So I have to kill Ron before I can kill Voldemort." He paused to see her nod. Standing up swiftly, he barked, "Well, then, HANG THE WIZARDING WORLD! LET THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC DEAL WITH THEM! Who knows?" His voice turned savage. "Maybe Voldemort can finish off Fudge and Scrimgeour, that would make him the _good_ guy to me. You know what?"

He jabbed his wand at the McGonagall as she winced. "Voldemort won't live forever. Let him die from old age or something…because I'm not going to kill him! I won't kill Ron!" McGonagall's lips were pursed to keep from trembling, and Hermione was trembling violently. "YOU HEAR VOLDEMORT? YOU CAN JUST KEEP ON LIVING, BECAUSE KNOW WHAT? I GIVE UP! YOU WIN! YOU GET TO LIVE FOREVER! HAPPY?"

He gripped his forehead as his scar ripped with pain. A very particular feeling of ecstasy and excitement quite separate from his mind blew into his body.

"Potter, get a hold of yourself," said Professor McGonagall, struggling to return to her tart manner. "This is not as bad as it seems."

Harry outright laughed. "Yeah. This is just a picnic. Why didn't he make Snape the Horcrux, eh? I would have enjoyed hunting him down!"

"Don't speak nonsense," said Professor McGonagall. "Snape is on our side."

Harry could barelyspeak. "You…how could you…you really do have dung for…SNAPE IS A TRAITOR! He pretty much blew Dumbledore off a tower, is that loyalty? He dragged the ferret off to serve the snake, is that loyalty? His slimy, greasy hair is the ruining the O-zone, is that loyalty?" He began to feel his rage go quite out of hand.

"You forget Dumbedore's painting. I asked him why he trusted Snape when he killed him, and Dumbledore has told me everything he knows. It has cleared up the matter. Furthermore, Snape has contacted me and explained everything. Draco and him are currently in Malfoy Manor, ready to help the Order."

"It's a bit like playing chess." Harry whipped around to see Ron, pale and earnest. "Dumbledore was the knight. He had to die, in order for the others to move forward."

Harry dropped near Ron's side. "Are you really all right?" he asked anxiously

"Never been better," grinned Ron sarcastically. "Besides the funnyVoldemort presence, I'm really quite dandy." Harry had never heard him use that tone before. Then he turned serious. "Harry, it doesn't hurt at all. You should be happy it didn't turn out the way it did." Hermione sniffled before walking timidly near Ron and sliding her damp hand in his.

"Why?" demanded Harry fiercely. "I am a thousand miles from happy, know that?"

"If you were the Horcrux," said Ron slowly, "then you would have to kill yourself."

"So?" Harry had to refrain rolling his eyes.

"Then who can kill Voldemort? He would have been unstoppable, because you would have to kill yourself before you killed the real thing, which is frankly impossible."

"It's still impossible," said Harry, biting his lip so hard he drew blood. "Don't worry mate, I'm never going to hurt you."

Ron sat up suddenly, his eyes shining with a strange expression. "I want you to kill me, Harry**." **McGonagall moved to him in alarm, but Ron continued. "If Voldemort lives, what about my brothers? My family? Hermione? And other people, like Fleur? I want you to."

"If you did," he said, his voice wobbling so hard he could barely make his words out. "You would have killed yourself without my help. You wouldn't need to ask."

"But I can't." Ron smiled weakly. "Only you can destroy Voldemort. And he's put a vital part in me, one that was part of his old self. You're the only one who could kill me. Funny, I could throw myself off a cliff and still live. I'd be hurt, but I can't kill myself no matter what I do. Harry…please."

Harry wanted to punch Ron with both his fists, but he was shaking so hard he couldn't control himself. A wounded cry rose from his throat and sounded painfully through the room. He couldn't even kill him painlessly, because you had to want to kill someone to activate the Avada Kedavra curse, which meant he would have to kill him like a Muggle. A low way to die, with a knife in his ribs, or a bullet lodged in between the clear blue eye

He couldn't breathe right. "No, Ron…I can't. I could hardly kill Nagini without wanting to cry, I…" Boiling tears threatened the boundaries of his eyes. "Killing you is like the…the end of the world, really…"

Ron tried to smile. "Harry, life is a chess game. I've spent years studying it, and you know what? I've learned that no matter what the strategy, sometimes something's gotta give. And if it's me, I'll die as good a death as Dumbledore did. At the end, it doesn't matter how many pieces you have left. What matters is if you've won the game."

Finally, the reserves in Harry's self-restraint broke down. Uncontrollable sobs racked his body as the hot tears finally ran free. He doubled onto himself, clutching his stomach, barely aware of Hermione's concern or McGonagall's own tears. He felt Ron's arms circle around him in an eternal embrace.

"Harry, we're going to win," Ron whispered.


End file.
